I Finally Watched Masters of the Universe: Revelation

By the power of geekdom, how can folks not like Masters of the Universe: Revelation? I'm not sure, because it is an epic, summer blockbuster movie in five episodes with one massive cliffhanger.

My (Lack of) Background with MOTU

I have none. Zero. While showrunner, Kevin Smith, and I are both from Generation X, I'm two years older than he is. As such, back in 1983 when the original cartoon debuted, I had just aged out of the target audience for He-Man and his toy line. I was a Star Wars kid who owned a ton of those toys, but I was just not interested in MOTU. Even when Return of the Jedi landed in theaters, I didn't buy a single ROTJ toy. I had just graduated from middle school. I was heading into high school in the fall of 1983. I was, I suppose, growing up, and leaving toys behind.

That said, I knew a few things. I knew that the hero was He-Man, his lady friend was She-Ra (literally thought that was her name until I started watching Revelation), and his enemy was Skeletor, a dang cool-looking villain. And I knew the setting was Grayskull which, when you looked at the name and the visuals, I just assumed was where Skeletor lived. Other than that, I knew next to nothing about MOTU and never bothered to learn. I didn't even see the live-action movie with Dolph Lundgren. Even when He-Man made an appearance in DC Comics alongside Superman, I probably just shrugged and waited until the next issue. Needless to say, I barely gave MOTU any thought.

My Background with Kevin Smith

I had never seen any of Smith's films until 2019 when I saw all of them. For me, he was a podcaster, the host of Fat Man on Batman. I loved his deep dives into Batman, the comics, and all the things that excited him because they also thrilled me. I wrote a blog series back in 2019 where I finally watched and reviewed all his films (and my favorite often surprises people) leading up to Jay and Silent Bob Reboot's release. (Every post began with "I Finally" so I kept it here, too, even though MOTU: Revelation is brand-new.) I saw it at a special screening here in Houston with Smith and Jay Mewes in attendance. It was a great night.

Along the way, writer Marc Bernardin joined Smith as a cohost for Fat Man on Batman that morphed into what it is now: Fatman Beyond, a podcast where Kevin and Marc talk about geek news, take questions from the audience, and generally weigh in on all things geek. Over the years, however, the writing lessons of Marc and his in-depth commentary on movies and story, have become an education for anyone who cares to listen. He has a way of cutting through all the clutter and getting down to the crux of a story and why it ticks or doesn't. I started transcribing Marc's comments into a quote folder. While I am very much like Kevin when it comes to emotionally reacting to various things (audience reaction videos to the end of Avengers: Endgame get me every single time), I grew to love Marc's pronouncements on story. It's helped my own writing immensely.

Enter MOTU

Having 'caught up' with Smith's filmmaking, I was in the bag for anything he'd do next. I watched his TV episodes when he directed The Flash and Supergirl, but I wondered what his next big thing would be. When he and Marc announced that it would be an update to MOTU, I likely screwed up my face and uttered a "Why?" aloud for no one to hear. Seriously? He's gonna do an animated show about that toy line back in the 1980s that I didn't care about then or now? 

Yes he was. And the more he talked about it, the more I listened. It wasn't like I could fast-forward through one of the podcasts. Well, I could, but who knew how long it would take for notorious talker Smith to stop talking about MOTU and get on talking about Batman, Marvel movies, or anything else I knew about.

So I listened to everything. And what came through was Smith's boundless enthusiasm. But a key to this excitement for the franchise was not merely the thing he was hired to do. It was enthusiasm for the franchise itself. He loved MOTU and it came through in his voice. It would be something he genuinely wanted to see even if it he wasn't the showrunner. Over time and multiple podcasts, he wore me down. 

When I watched those trailers, I recognized what he and the entire creative team had done: update the visual look from the original Filmation version to a 21st Century sensibility. I started to get excited for this franchise I had never seen.  I knew that whenever MOTU: Revelation dropped, I would watch it. When he indicated Marc would write an episode, that was just icing on the cake. 

MOTU: Revelation Is Epic

Note: Spoilers abound from here on out.

Treating the show like a Saturday morning cartoon, I settled in to watch this new show this past weekend, but I made one crucial decision, the same decision I made when I watched Smith's films back in 2019: I did no pre-watch research. I merely watched the episodes, one after the other, reading no background or reviews. All my reactions to the show would be mine alone.

Thankfully for a newbie like me, the opening of Episode One gives an overview and immediately I realized my error about Castle Grayskull. It's not Skeletor's house. Yet another revelation was He-Man himself. I never realized that was a secret identity. He-Man's basically a super-hero, Shazam-like in that the scrawny Prince Adam bulks up to become the buff and powerful He-Man. I'm down for that.

Speaking of super-hero-type things, during that Episode One battle between Skeletor's forces and the heroes, Skeletor uses his magic to conjure various things, like a giant fist he swings at He-Man. My DC Comics-loving self took a note that said, “Oh, Skeletor’s like Green Lantern." Still good so far. Heck, all of the events of Episode One, which Smith wrote, was all it took for me to instantly be enthralled with the show. The animation was fantastic, the more adult tone was on point, and the action was exactly what I wanted: over-the-top and with stakes. Seriously, what's not to like?

The Music is More Than I Expected

But there was one aspect that I noted more than once in my note-taking: the music. As a guy who considers the soundtrack to a movie just as important as the movie itself, I loved it. When I listen to many of the soundtracks I own--be they from John Williams, James Horner, or others--I can "see" the movie in my mind as I hear the score.

Bear McCreary composed the music not for a mere cartoon. He took to heart the mantra the Mattel folks gave Smith during the creation of the show: make this franchise feel epic and Shakespearian. McCreary delivered. Not only did we get a huge, sweeping orchestral score, but he threw in metal-like guitars in many of the action sequences. That was awesome.

Yet McCreary didn't just compose bombastic music. He wrote the smaller, quieter parts equally as good. You know how seconds after a show ends, Netflix's app prompts you to either skip the credits and jump to the next episode or stay for the credits? I stayed for the credits just to hear McCreay's music. The end piece for Episode One, with its single French Horn mournfully playing after the titanic events that close that episode is a wonderful piece of music that reminded me a little of how Princess Leia's theme from Star Wars (1977) sounded.

The Quest Starts With Lots of Fun References

Naturally, after both He-Man and Skeletor "die" in Episode One, we have the what comes after. Teela (not She-Ra, thank you very much) and everyone else have moved on. So, too, has Eternia, this time, with technology. Science fiction geek that I am, I loved the tech in the next four episodes. And I especially appreciated how it was used in the show. Magic failed Eternia, so tech filled the void. Excellent take and historically accurate analogy (for our world). 

I appreciated how we start with Teela and then revisit every other character and what they've been doing in the years since the magic died. So, too, did I love the little references thrown in for the benefit of the audience, the “if you know, you'll know parts.” "Sorry about the mess," line from Teela was an obvious one, but I also dug the "Certain death? Most likely.“ line as a callback to Disney's The Emperor's New Groove. 

In a nod to the old shows, it was fun to see adventures from back in the day. I'm not sure these were actual episodes remade in the modern style or untold new adventures by our heroes, but I'm game to see them nonetheless. But I thoroughly enjoyed how Episode Three started with a cold open showing a past adventure and when He-Man uttered a cheesy line, the episode flipped back to Teela's new friend, Andra, openly questioning Teela's retelling. It enabled the writer of that episode to acknowledge the source material and the nature of 80s cartoons in general. That writer? Marc Bernardin.

Orko's Speech and Marc Bernardin’s Writing

By Episode Three, Teela has gathered a small team to search for the two halves of the Sword of Power, and that includes Skeletor's former sidekick Evil-Lyn. I only casually watched Game of Thrones but of the handful of episodes I watched, Lena Headey commanded the screen every time she stepped in front of the lens. Her casting as Evil-Lyn was marvelous, especially over the course of this episode as she begins to question all the bad things she did alongside Skeletor. Headey only gives a vocal performance, but you can hear all the cracks in her personal armor start to chip away as she shares times and the quest with the former heroes.

I knew from his commentary in the podcast that Bernardin was a gifted writer. It was his episode for which I most looked forward. And man did he deliver. He gave us humorous lines like "She's the only one with a Skeletor in her closet." Later, when our heroes have dispatched the Mer-Man, Andra says, "Something fishy about that guy." When all look to her, she says, "What? We were all thinking it." Yet for all the funny lines, he supplied some of the most heartfelt moments in all five of these episodes. Evil-Lyn's lament about her early days with Skeletor—"Instead of fulfilling my destiny, I spent a lifetime trying to fulfill his.”—is particularly moving.

But the most poignant lines of this episode were delivered by a character I recognized as being from MOTU but never knew his name: Orko. Griffin Newman voices the diminutive Trollan probably like the old episodes--in a squeaky voice--but still manages to convey tiredness and hopelessness as we first meet him. With the magic gone from Eternia, Orko is slowly dying, being kept alive by magic water delivered to him by Man-at-Arms. When Teela comes calling for Man-at-Arms, she finds Orko as well, and he implores her to take him with her. "I had the best times of my life with you," Orka says via Bernardin's words. "And that's the only thing that can help me right now. More life. But life is out there. So bring me on an adventure. Like you used to. Just this one last time. I won't let you down like the old days. I promise I'll be good." For a newbie like me, those few lines told me all I needed to know about this character. 

But then Orko delivers this speech to Audra:

"I spent years fighting alongside Eternia's greatest warriors. And now, I forget more than I remember. All my memories just blur together. So, if you're gonna lead the life of an adventurer, Andra, you might want to keep a journal. And write down everything you ever do, even the silly stuff you think is forgettable. Because when the adventures are over, that's all you're left with. Good friends and happy memories."

Bernardin is a middle-aged man. So, too, am I, Kevin Smith, and a large majority of the audience who grew up with MOTU. The die-hard fans probably have all the episodes of MOTU on DVD and have memorized many passages. I can do that with Star Wars, Star Trek, Indiana Jones, and others. We've got those collective memories seared into our brains via countless viewings. But how many of us can remember the nuances of childhood, what it was really like to be a youth in high school, the little moments when we met our spouses, or those first months after our children were born. Bernardin, through Orko, is reminding us of what's really important in life: experiences with family and friends.  Orko's sentiment is all the more powerful after he finally has his big moment and sacrifices himself to save his friends. 

The Big Cliffhanger

Speaking of sacrifices, Roboto also gave his life to reforge the Sword of Power. He's at peace with it, however, saying, "I was no mere machine. I was a miracle." Isn't all of life a miracle? Yes, it is. I know these episodes were written in 2019 and into 2020 and I can't help but consider how the pandemic influenced some of this writing. 

Our heroes finally find Prince Adam and discover he's living in heaven with other heroes of Eternia. It's a story beat you knew was coming but still gave you chills when it came to pass. So, too, was Adam's natural decision to return to Eternia and abandon heaven, knowing he could never return. It's what heroes do and, after all, he's He-Man. 

But just as Adam never truly died, neither did Skeletor. His soul, like the Horcruxes of Voldemort in Harry Potter, was stored in Evil-Lyn's wand, and he reemerges just in time to stab Adam as he's about to utter that famous line. In the final moments of Part I, it is Skeletor, voiced by Mark Hamill, who gets to utter the "By the power of Grayskull" line--probably a first for the character--and become the Master of the Universe.

And now, like at the end of Avengers: Infinity War, we have to wait for Part II to drop. Let's just hope it's not another year.

The Subtitle is the Roadmap for Those Who Care to See It

It was only after I watched and thoroughly enjoyed all five episodes that I jumped online (to ensure I got the details of this review correct) and learned about the vitriol being thrown at Smith. Granted, he's used to being criticized for his own movies, but it still surprised me. This wasn't a situation where one company bought another franchise and then made movies divorced from the original creator. Mattel sought out a kindred MOTU spirit and found it in Kevin Smith. He, in turn, recruited folks who loved the franchise and gave it their all, be it in words, music, animation, or voice. 

And Mattel wouldn't have greenlit the project if they disagreed with Smith's vision. They could have stopped it at any time if they didn't like the choices Smith and company were making. But Mattel didn't. They recognized that this is a show created with reverential love and appreciation for the source material. It is a continuation of the story not from the perspective of the corporate suits who made the original but fans who loved and grew up with MOTU and are now in positions of power to say yes to a project like this. 

It seems like much of the fan reaction focuses on He-Man and him not being in every minute of the story. They point to the original title—“He-Man and the Masters of the Universe”—as proof this new iteration is just plain wrong. But it's right there in the title: Masters of the Universe: Revelation. It's not just a He-Man story. It's a story about everyone else, too. Because why not? I'm guessing all those old shows either didn't delve into the characters much or, if they did, it was only He-Man and Skeletor. 

And just as the opening of Episode One revealed the staircase below Castle Grayskull (seemed like this was a new thing), so, too, will it be likely be revealed that He-Man isn't the only person capable of being a Master of the Universe. There were those other heroes now in heaven. And now there's Skeletor. There's a good chance we'll see someone else utter that famous line and have the power. I'm betting it'll be Teela. Heck, it could even be Evil-Lyn (because I think her time with the heroes has changed her). 

But the subtitle is probably forecasting the future. It will all be revealed when we have the entire story. Because let's be honest: we’ve seen only half the story. People are losing their minds with only half the information in their grasp. Seriously, folks. You can't judge Star Wars having only seen A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back. Ditto for Star Trek (after Wrath of Khan) or Harry Potter (after any book/movie after Goblet of Fire) or Lord of the Rings (after The Two Towers). We don't know the entire story yet.

Fandom Should Grow and Evolve

Besides, what’s wrong with change? Was there an uproar when Frank Miller made Robin a girl in The Dark Knight Returns? How about when Lois Lane discovered Superman’s secret identity? Or when Battlestar Galactica’s Starbuck became female? Or Sherlock Holmes’s Watson followed suit? Or when a young woman welded Skywalker’s lightsaber in The Force Awakens? 

Oh, wait, yeah there was. What’s the common denominator? Female empowerment. Why is there a subset of fandom that thinks only white dudes can lead franchises? True, back in the day, they all did because it was white dudes making all the choices. But fandom has evolved to be more inclusive. Back in my day, we geeks sought out each other because most every other clique thought us weird. We collectively bonded over our shared geekdom. Now those geeks have grown up and are making shows like MOTU: Revelation not only for us veteran geeks but for the young ones as well. And those young ones are living in the 21st Century, a world that’s different from the ones we lived through. 

So, from a purely business standpoint, it makes sense to have Teela and Andra and Evil-Lyn be the stars and carry the heavy load because the fandom should be more inclusive. But just by including some doesn’t mean we’re excluding others. The tent is bigger now, more diverse, and with opinions to match. That is a great and healthy accomplishment if we allow it to be.

The Verdict

Back to the marvelous first half of this epic movie (for that’s what it is, just in ten 24-minute installments), this newbie MOTU watcher loved being introduced to the franchise. I was swept away by the scope of the story, the broadness of the music, the excellence of the voice actors, and the modern animation style. It is one of the best things I've seen in 2021 and will likely rank in my Top 5 for this year.

I may be late to the party, but this stuff is really cool and I can’t wait for Part II to drop. In the meantime, however, I think I'll find out where the original series is streaming and dive in.

In Defense of "John Carter"

“John Carter” is a very good film, not as bad as many critics have said, provided you know one thing: How To Have Fun.

To understand this essay, you have to understand where I come from and the type of viewer and reader I am. “A Princess of Mars,” Edgar Rice Burroughs’s first Mars book—first book period (!)—and the basis for the new movie, is one of the very few things that can literally transport me back to that glorious time in my life in the late 70s halo of those immediate post-Star Wars years where I learned about science fiction. While I cannot say with certainty that the John Carter books were my first literary SF, they were among the first. I re-read “Princess” a couple of years ago and found that the tale still held sway over my imagination despite my more adult observations on the technical proficiency of ERB’s writing style. In preparation for the new movie, my SF book club agreed to read the first two novels of the series (the second being The Gods of Mars), watch the movie, and then retire to a nearby restaurant and discuss.

As to the type of reader and viewer I am, let’s just say that I thoroughly enjoy being entertained. When it comes to TV cop shows, I can enjoy “The Wire” and “CSI: Miami” for what each of them are. CSI: Miami will never win over critics the way The Wire has, but I often have more fun with Horatio Caine and company versus McNulty and his pals. I was completely engrossed by “The Dark Knight” back in 2008 but also really dug the animated “Batman: The Brave and the Bold” released the same year. For another example, I am a proud member of the Star Wars Generation, a kid when it was released. As an adult, I was jazzed to see the new movies, yet left the theater after Episode I and Episode II having to justify many aspects of those movies. Of the six Star Wars movies made, only one is great, one is very good, and the rest are all muddled together. All this is to say that, while I don’t often wear my critical hat every time a watch or read something, I am no drone for properties and characters and universes I enjoy.

Which brings me to John Carter. I read no spoilers ahead of time. The older I’ve gotten, the more I prefer to be surprised in the movie theater rather than a grainy YouTube video or geekboy script breakdown published somewhere on the web. I knew those in control of the subject matter, namely Andrew Stanton, Michael Chabon, and Disney, among others. Stanton’s work with Pixar is magnificent, Chabon’s novels and mastery of the English language are often sublime, and I love Disney stuff. That Chabon and Stanton grew up loving the Barsoom (i.e., Mars) books and were in charge of the story left me no worries that they would shepherd the film with loving detail. I trusted in them, and, frankly, they did not let me down.

But I am a different type of viewer than your average viewer. I knew the material. In fulfilling my obligation to my book club (read the first two novels), I became so engrossed in the characters and landscape of Burroughs’s imagination that I have, to date, completed the first four novels and am reading the fifth. I pulled my old issues of the 1970s-era John Carter comics published by Marvel and am re-reading them. I’ve even bought the new anthology edited by John Joseph Adams, Under the Moons of Mars, new stories inspired by Barsoom. Sure, the books are laced with wild coincidences, pulpy writing, and outlandish plot details. So? You could say the same about The Da Vinci Code and not a few of the Sherlock Holmes stories, too, and I liked them. A simple story told simply isn’t bad. What I wanted most to see was Burroughs’s imagination come alive on screen. And, in that, Stanton delivered more than I could ever have hoped for.

Burroughs populated his adventures with giant four-arms green fighting men (Tharks), giant ten-legged Martian “lions” (banths), giant flying crafts that “sail” the air (Barsoomian war ships), and giant, four-armed white apes. See a trend here? Burroughs’s world is over-sized, filled with wondrous creatures, fierce and noble races, vile villains, and amazing technology. The oft-used phrase “sensawonder,” an amalgamation of “sense of wonder,” permeates the very text of Burroughs’s books and comes alive in readers’ imaginations.

And they come truly to life in the new movie. The Tharks I had always pictured to be muscle-bound hulks, but in Stanton’s hands, they are aggressive yet elegant, beautiful almost. Gollem, in The Lord of the Rings, is my standard by which I measure how computer animated characters interact with human characters. The Tharks have joined him. I love the Tharks in this film! I always pictured the white apes to be vicious brutes, and in Stanton’s interpretation, they are larger and far worse than I’d thought possible. Woola, the calot, or Martian dog, was a ten-legged beast in the books with little personality other than loyalty. On screen, Woola is a joy to watch as he is both loyal and laugh-out-loud comic relief. The flying ships are large and graceful, but can pack enough firepower to destroy whole towns. Yes, they sound like ships from Star Wars: Episode I, but who cares. There are only so many ways you can make spaceships sound. I caught the reference, and then quickly moved it aside in my mind. I was having too much dang fun.

I’m very glad that Stanton and company kept the framing device. In both the book and the movie, a fictional version of Burroughs is entrusted with a manuscript written by Carter that tells of his exploits on Mars. From there, the epic of John Carter is revealed. One of my fellows thought the film should have begun with Carter waking up on Mars. I liked the back story (and the additions Stanton made, especially the ending) and considered it to give Carter a bit more emotional resonance. Where the literary Carter is a military man nearly incapable of *not* joining a fight, the film version of Carter is a qualified fighting man, buy one for whom violence has taken a toll. That still doesn’t mean it can’t be the butt of a joke. I was laughing out loud when I watched the scenes of Carter, on Earth, being captured by the Union cavalry.

For a century, certain images from the books have been stuck in the imaginations of readers. One of the dangers that a faces a film like “John Carter” boils down to this: will the filmmakers “see” the scene like the readers have seen it. From my point of view, they nailed it. More than once in the novels, Carter fights hoards of beasts, the carcasses piling up around him. Stanton got this pitch perfect. The flying ships are exotic yet real, steampunk-inspired, yet futuristic. Helium as a city is magnificent, regal, yet lived in, as befitting a dying planet. Sure, George Lucas made his Star Wars universe “lived in,”—a quality the newer films kind of lacked—but he was probably inspired by Barsoom.

The Acting

You don’t watch Star Wars for acting lessons. Ditto the Harry Potter films, the Twilight films, or any random superhero movie. True, great acting emerges, either in certain characters (Heath Ledger’s Joker), certain scenes (the end of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire when Cedric dies), over the course of a movie/series (Sean Astin’s Sam in The Lord of the Rings), and, occasionally, in a computer-generated character (Gollem, Wall E, or Anton Ego from Ratatouille). But, like a Michael Crichton novel, you often only need to let an actor say the lines that needs saying and propel the plot forward.

That doesn’t mean that the actors cannot embody their lines with life and verve. Here, however, is the tale of a man lost, a stranger in a strange world. How would *you* feel if you woke up on another planet? For me, I never saw Taylor Kitsch in anything until I saw him as John Carter. That’s a benefit for me, for I didn’t have his Friday Nights Lights character to influence how I perceived his portrayal of Carter. Ditto for Lynn Collins, the actress who plays Dejah Thoris, the princess of Mars. They were tasked—burdened?—with bringing to life and personifying a century’s worth of reader imaginations, to say nothing of the scores of young men who dreamed that *they* welded Carter’s sword and rescued Dejah themselves. And they did a good job. Neither rose above the text and overpowered the film, but they were not subsumed by it either.

Of the two characters, Dejah got an update. When you read the original novels, you will note that, while Dejah did find herself in numerous instances of peril, she wasn’t some limp-wristed damsel who did nothing but scream. She helps Carter in more than one spot, paving the way for future heroines like Princess Leia and Ripley from “Alien.” In the new movie, Dejah is still a princess, but she’s also a scientist who is researching the ninth ray, the mystical ray that, could it only be harnessed, it could even the battlefield against Helium’s enemies. Oh, and she’s a great fighter, too. Oh, and she’s beautiful. The other members of my book club rolled their eyes over the fact that all three traits were rolled into one. I, frankly, had no problem with it. I like strong women. It leveled the playing field between Carter’s supernatural strength and Dejah’s brain.

The love story worked for me. As innumerable love stories on film have done, you have two opposing personalities discovering their love for each other but go to great pains to hide it. We knew, going in, that Carter would fall for Dejah. The fun in the movie, however, was how Dejah fell for Carter. Remember the movie version of The Bridges of Madison County (stay with me, here) and how Meryl Streep’s character kept stealing glances at Clint Eastwood? Same stuff here, but, for example, through the reflection of a Martian sword. Collins had her work cut out for her seeing that generations of young boys probably got quite excited when their imaginations filled in the figure of the mostly naked princess of Mars. She had to embody this famous heroine, give her brains and brawn, but also be beautiful at the same time. Pretty as she was, she won me over with her sly smiles at Carter’s fighting prowess and her growing respect, admiration, and the fact that she saw in Carter a kindred spirit. It is through her eyes that the loves manifests itself first, and it is in her heartbroken eyes we see Carter’s initial refusal to help. She did a great job. One reviewer commented that he’d like to see a movie featuring Dejah alone. While I would not go that far, I was thoroughly impressed by Collins and thought she carried more than her share of the film.

The Changes

Readers and critics could debate all day on the merits of filming all the events from A Princess of Mars. One critic who panned the film talked of Stanton’s slavish devotion to the source material. I think there is a fine line between slavishly creating something on the screen from printed material (Watchmen) or taking inspiration from a book and creating something that is, in effect, a hybrid. Readers in 1912 traveled with Carter throughout this basic travelogue of a book, having adventures along the way. In that year, the spectacle of Mars was pretty much enough to maintain interest. In 2012, we’ve sent spaceship to Mars itself, so we know the truth. We have a more sophisticated appreciation for storytelling and, frankly, expect more and different things from a movie. Stanton and Chabon, knowing this fact, reached the only logical conclusion: incorporate the best elements of the main book, throw in a few elements from the second, and make up some new stuff to satisfy the demands of the viewing public.

All in all, they succeeded. SPOILERS start here. The villains from The Gods of Mars—the Therns—are brought into this story. These immortal beings, lead by Matai Shang (Mark Strong) control the lives and events of mortal souls. They know the secret of the ninth ray on Mars—a source of great power—and give it to the human bad guy of the film (Dominic West’s Sab Than, Prince of Zodanga, the great rival of Dejah’s Helium) to help him rule. The Therns are shape-shifters, able to, in the blink of an eye, change form. Cool! This is not in the books, but it works here, and it enables Carter to do exactly what the first movie in a (potential) series needs to do: defeat the smaller bad guy but not the larger bad guy. Think about the end of the first Star Wars film: Vader lives, but the Death Star is destroyed. You know he’s going to bring back the big guns, but that’s in the next movie.

Teleportation. In the books, Carter uses astral projection to get to Mars. Here, in the movie, it’s a combination of that plus a technological component. His body remains here on Earth while a living, breathing copy of him emerges on Mars. This concept sets up the great epilogue, a point I’m not spoiling here. I really liked that it was a scientific means of getting Carter to Mars, and, by having to possess an actual artifact, gave Carter a nice MacGuffin to chase.

The Criticisms

Yes, I have some. Earlier I mentioned how Stanton and Chabon picked the best parts of the first two books and put them in this movie. It must have been a tremendously fun exercise, much like the fun Anthony Horowitz must have experienced when he penned the new Sherlock Holmes novel, The House of Silk (2011). Think about it: you get to assemble what amounts to a mix tape of your favorite scenes. The one problem I have is that they may have picked too many.

Take, for example, a hallmark of Burroughs’s tales: the arena fight. I’ve forgotten how many exist in the novels, but it’s a lot. Likely the writers knew that they wanted to include one in the film and chose a rather awkward time for it. Sure, it set up the Braveheart-like visuals of Carter splattered with blue blood, but even I kind of shifted in my seat when I realized that Carter was captured yet again. But, I quickly reminded myself of the books, where Carter and his friends always get captured. Then, of course, in the film, you get the arena scene and the giant apes. Yes, I thought of Star Wars: Episode II at the start of the scene (and Spartacus and Ben Hur and Gladiator)…and quickly put it out of my mind. Arena battles are numerous in films and mythology. There are only a few ways to do them. And the way Carter did it was thrilling. Dude, he swung a giant bolder and smashed the head of a giant white ape! Yeah!

The Voice of Barsoom. In the books, Carter learns the one language of Mars the old fashioned way: by hearing it and, bit by bit, understanding it. In the movie, there is a magical liquid that the Tharks give their young and that one of the Tharkian women in charge of Carter gives the Earthman. Lo and behold, he now speaks their language. It’s a simple and straightforward way to get all the characters speaking the same language in the blink of a scene, but it’s a little eye rolling.

There are other minor criticisms, but I’d be throwing pebbles at a boulder. Who cares, really? I had a blast with the film.

Summary

If I had to sum up my thoughts into one word, it might be “thankfulness.” I’m thankful that Stanton, Chabon, and everyone involved were devoted to making a fun, entertaining, fun, faithful, fun, and exciting movie experience. I’m thankful that they played it straight with their film, not like the cheesy Flash Gordon movie of 1980. I’m thankful that they reminded us that jaded, post-modern takes on historical or old ideas need not be the only way to update old material. I’m thankful that Stanton hired Michael Giacchino who composed a superb soundtrack that evoked not only the thrilling soundtracks of Hollywood’s days gone by with the bombast of fight scenes, but also the ethereal, otherworldly music that shines and yet lovingly caresses the actors on screen during the quieter moments. (I’m thinking of that final episode of “Lost” and the openings of “Star Trek” and “Up” where his music nearly single-handedly brought tears to my eyes. That gravitas is present here, too.) I’m thankful for Disney who put up the money to make a giant pet project that millions of readers and viewers adore, no matter the final financial outcome. I’m thankful that movies like this are still being made, movies that entertain and thrill with no other ulterior motive than that. I’m thankful that there are moments in this movie where I wanted to stand up and cheer, where chills coursed over my arms, where my jaw dropped at the sheer size of the spectacle before me, and whose closing scene had me grinning like the eleven year old that I still am when it comes to this material.

I loved this movie for what it is: the best dang movie experienced I’ve seen in a long, long time. There are formidable movies that have planted their flags and laid claim to moments in my life, from childhood to adulthood: Star Wars, Superman, The Empire Strikes Back, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Amadeus, Back to the Future, Die Hard, Batman (1989), Dead Poet’s Society, When Harry Met Sally, The Fellowship of the Ring, Pirates of the Caribbean, The Return of the King, Ratatouille, The Dark Knight, Toy Story 3, and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2. John Carter of Mars has landed with this company.

I loved this movie and I want to return to this universe. If, however, a sequel is never made, I will still cherish this film, these books, and this universe. If a movie sequel is never made, I implore Chabon and Stanton to write the novel. I want to know the next chapter in this new yet familiar story. It’s a long shot in these immediate days after the premiere, but there exists hope, and hope, according to John Carter, is enough.

Book Review Club: The Magicians by Lev Grossman

(This is the November 2011 edition of Barrie Summy's Book Review Club. For the complete list, click on the icon after this review.)

What would Harry Potter have been like in Magic College? What would happen if you had a bunch of magicians and no bad guy? What would happen if you wrote a book and the plot never arrived? What if the opening paragraph of Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities ("It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.") were expanded into a full-length book with a little bit of magic and nothing else.

Those are some of the thoughts I had when trying to come up with a banging opening sentence for my review of Lev Grossman's The Magicians. None really had the oomph I wanted, so I threw them all in that first paragraph in a vain attempt to be witty and wow you readers into thinking I had something to say. Which is, now that I think about it, a little like Grossman did for his book.

I'm in a science fiction book club and this was the October selection. I didn't choose it, but the premise--older teenagers go to a magical college--was promising. The dust jacket was interesting. But the execution was just wrong. When the four members of my club gather, we each give the book in question a letter grade (I picked "C" because it was exactly in the middle; others included a C-, a B, and an A). This is the first time in which I preferred that Agree/Disagree spectrum because it had that one place, right in the middle, where you can say "I have no opinion one way or the other." It was just a few hundred pages of "meh."

The novel centers on Quentin Coldwater, a seventeen-year-old New Yorker who is a morose teenager. He's the third wheel with his two other friends and his parents are all but apathetic to his presence. Thus, when he learns there is a magical college, he accepts. Now, anyone who has been exposed to the Harry Potter universe will have fun comparing Hogwarts with Breakbills College for Magical Pedagogy. Honestly, that was the most tolerable part of the book because I didn't really expect anything to happen other than school stuff. It was a nice change to have magical students drink and have sex since I'm accustomed to the Hogwarts version of things where the worse thing those teenagers did was snog.

The biggest problem with the rest of the book is that stuff never happened. The most interesting scene during the school years sequence was when a creature appears. Ooh, I thought, now we're getting somewhere. Then the creature left, admittedly after doing a horrible thing, and nothing much happened. Ever.

If you read the hard copy of the book, you will see the map of Fillory--the stand-in for Narnia in Grossman's universe--so you know it occupies a huge portion of the mind's of the characters. In fact, Quentin is a Fillory fanboy, the only one who still reads the books while at Breakbills. It's not a spoiler--why else would the map be in the inside cover?--to say that Fillory makes an appearance and Quentin and his friends go there. Give you one guess what "happens."

Among the four members of my book club, two finished the book last week while I finished the book and am writing this review on the same day. The Last-Weekers say that the book has stayed with them, and that they are liking it more and more because they keep thinking about it. One member even went so far as to say that Quentin is the most complex character we've ever read in our nearly two years doing this book club. That may be so, but he's still a whiner to me. Yes, says my friend, but he's true to himself no matter what happens.

After I finished the book, I read some reviews and learned many readers appreciate that Grossman tried to turn the conventional quest/fantasy novel on its head, to write a mainstream fiction novel with some fantasy elements. Notably, other readers took note of Grossman's nuanced, post-modern take on the aspects of fantasy literature. I'll grant him that, and agree with them.

But I still want a story, a plot, or some sort of device that moves the action. I still want something that propels me forward other than a desire to finish the book because I was in a book club.

A member of my club said that The Magicians might be a book he'd give to a person unfamiliar with science fiction/fantasy as an introduction to the genre. I don't think that's a good idea. But if you're steeped in the genre and want to see how a non-genre-ian, but admitted geek, takes on all the tropes of fantasy literature, The Magicians might be a good choice for you. There's a new sequel (The Magician King) with a premise that sounds mildly more interesting than this book, but I'll be content to read the plot summary on Wikipedia. I want to know what happens to these characters, but not enough to read another book.

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Book Review Club: Perdido Street Station by China Mieville

(This is the April 2010 edition of Barrie Summy's Book Review Club. For a complete list, click the icon at the end of this review.)

In my reading life, I can list only a handful of books that have truly captured my fascination: To Kill a Mockingbird, Mystic River, The Shadow of the Wind, Ender's Game, Money Shot, Hyperion, The Dawn Patrol, Tarzan of the Apes, and Treasure Island. These nine novels just landed themselves a tenth sibling.

Perdido Street Station, by China Mieville, is a huge, engrossing, towering, dense, baroque, and incomparable novel. It's a fantasy story in that magical elements exist in the world of New Crobuzon. It's also a science fiction novel in that there's a prominent steampunk element running throughout the entire story. It's part horror since there are monsters in this land, as well as man-made monstrosities. It's part social fiction in that Mieville's political philosophy clearly comes out in how his characters interact with each other. Perdido Street Station (PSS), however, is more than the sum of its parts.

Other reviewers have tried to put into words the scope and style of this gorgeous novel and more than a few have chosen Dickensian. That adjective carries with it more than a century of baggage and not everything to which it is applied deserves it. PSS does. In his novels, Charles Dickens explored then-contemporary social issues within the framework of a complex, sometimes convoluted, plot structure. Characters abound in a Dickens novel, little ones and big ones, some playing only a minor part, others consuming whole chunks of the story. Mieville's characters operate in a similar way, only their world is fictional, fantastical, and more than a little depressing.

The level of detail in which Mieville describes the architecture, history, geography, and population of New Crobuzon warrants it's own, separate essay. If you've followed my discussion of world-building over at SF Safari, you'll remember my thoughts on world-building. In short, I think many SF/F books suffer from bloated world-building--too much travelogue, too little narrative-- so much so that the plot gets sacrificed along the way. It's why you see so many thousand-page doorstops on the shelves of bookstores and libraries. Mieville straddles this line tenuously. He doesn't stop the action so long as to give a five-page mini-history. Instead, he gives you a page here and there, the cumulative effect being a wider understanding of New Crobuzon and it's place in the world of Bas-Lag.

By now you're probably knocking on your computer screens and saying, "Yeah, Scott, but what is the book about?" [Deep breath] Isaac Dan der Grimnebulin is a scientist, a human, who studies crisis energy. His girlfriend is Lin, an artist and a Kepri (a humanoid with a insectile head who "speaks" in sign language). Isaac and Lin each get commissioned at the same time for different jobs. Isaac is hired by Yagharek, a Garuda (race of humanoid-bird creatures) to restore his flight (his wings have been hacked off for an unknown crime). Lin is hired by Mr. Motley, the godfather of all crime lords in the city, to sculpt a statue of him. (If you thought Jabba the Hutt was disgusting, you'd be horrified at Motley's description. He has altered, AKA "re-made," himself by adding various body parts to his original human frame.)

For the first third of the novel, you see Isaac and Lin accept their commissions, interact with their friends, and you, the reader, are treated to a sepia-tinged snapshot of New Crobuzon. The novel is hardly flawless and the dense prose at the beginning--replete with overly descriptive passages detailing just how old and fetid the city is--can be daunting. More than once I wondered when the story was going to pick up and what the main narrative arc was going to be. It shows up in the most unlikely source: Isaac's research. In an attempt to learn how natural things fly (to better understand how he can give Yagharek new wings), Isaac sends out secret word that he'll pay for anything with wings, even things like caterpillars who will eventually get wings. His is given a stolen larva that has been secreted out of the main research area of Parliament (located in a giant tower named Perdido Street Station, so named because of the elevated railway that crisscross the city). Oddly, this larva only responds to a hallucinogenic drug called "dreams--t." Not knowing what the creature is, Isaac buys some of the drug and feeds it to the larva.

You remember when your mom told you never to mess with things you don't understand? Clearly, Isaac forgot that lesson. The larva grows and the thing--yes, Thing--that emerges is a slake-moth. One of the more unique aspects of Mieville's writing is that he gives you just enough description of an object or person but you still never quite get the entire picture. In addition, different readers will have different takes on the same creatures. To say the slake-moth is bad news is a gross understatement. It's wings hypnotizes it's victims, bringing in their minds myriads of nightmares. The moths then drink the dreamlike juices. Yuck. It's been a long time since I read any horror literature. I'm not squeamish by nature but the first time a moth fed just about got me. To give you an idea of how ferocious these things are, the aliens from "Alien" wouldn't stand a chance.

And there are five slake-moths. The one in Isaac's lab escapes and frees it's siblings. The rest of the novel is Isaac and his friends trying to kill the moths. Other characters enter the stage. The mayor of New Crobuzon, Bentham Rudgutter, rallies the military and other Re-Made creatures, trying to capture the moths for his own corrupt reasons. The Weaver, a giant, spider-like, god-like creature who has human hands but can also travel between planes of existence, has his own agenda when it comes to the moths. There are other things that populate this chimeric city but I won't spoil the fun of their discovery.

Perdido Street Station is not without its weaknesses. Certain characters that you think are important drop from the main stage and, inexplicably, never return. There's a giant coincidence that pushes the story along that I saw coming and was a little let down when it proved to be true. The denouement at the end of the story is satisfying. I can't say the same thing about the epilogue after the big ending. It was rather disappointing and it keeps me from giving this novel my complete five-star recommendation.

But I wholeheartedly give it four-and-a-half or more. It's not a perfect book. But it is unlike anything I've ever read. I thoroughly enjoyed it, despite it's flaws. I was completely engrossed by the world and want to return. After I finished the book, I was spent. It took me a week to figure out what to read next. There are so many books and authors I want to read that I usually have a rule: I don’t read the same author back to back. In my audiobook world, I’ve kept that rule, listening to Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter (completely the opposite type book). In my reading world, I’ve broken the rule. I realized that the only person who can follow Mieville is Mieville.

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Book Review Club (March 2010): Sandman, Vol. 1 by Neil Gaiman

(This is the March 2010 edition of Barrie Summy's Book Review Club. For a complete list of all participants, click on the link at the end of this review.)

For the whole of his career, Neil Gaiman and I have never met. Not in person, not online, and not through his fiction. Recently, that’s changed. I started reading his Newbery Award winning YA novel, The Graveyard Book, and really like it. I’m listening to it, read by Gaiman himself, and it’s like having the author sit beside me and narrate the tale. Up until I started reading his latest novel, I knew enough to know Gaiman made a name for himself with his comic book writing, specifically the Sandman series for DC’s Vertigo line. All seventy-five issues have been collected in a ten-volume trade paperback edition. Sandman, along with other famous graphic novels I’ve actually read (The Dark Knight Returns; Watchmen; V for Vendetta) ranks among the most important products of the comic book world. Seeing as I’m a comic book devotee and with a new found appreciation for Gaiman’s storytelling (I’m also reading his short story collection, Fragile Things), I figured I ought to start where he started.

Hired to revamp DC’s classic Sandman character as created by Jack Kirby, Gaiman quickly earned the right to create his own title and character. Thus, he begat Dream, AKA Morpheus, the Lord of the Dreamworld. Dream is tall, lean, deathly white, with spiky black hair and pupil-less black eyes. In a nice touch, his word bubbles on the page are white script on a black background (as opposed to the typical black text in a white balloon). This distinction, along with his visage, lends Dream an “otherness” quality that sets him apart, visibly, throughout the issues.

Volume I: Preludes and Nocturnes, includes the first eight issues of the series. Issues one through seven constitute the first story arc. In a bizarre ritual in 1916 England, humans, who didn’t quite know what they were doing, yank Dream from his realm and imprison him in a glass orb. There he remains for seventy years, time passing for him at the same rate as for us. His three talismen—a ruby, a helm (gas mask), and a pouch of sand—are stolen. Obviously, he escapes and the remainder of the seven-issue arc is Dream’s quest to recover his stolen property and seek revenge.

Dream’s journey is, to say the least, trippy. The artwork—by Sam Kieth, Mike Dringenberg, and Malcolm Jones III—is often kaleidoscopic, just like our real dreams are. With it being an ostensibly mainstream comic, many of the more horrific elements are masked behind four-color comic art. A few of DC Comics’ more interesting characters make cameos along the way. The first people Dream seeks help from are the brothers Cain and Abel, the curators of the House of Mystery and House of Secrets, respectively. Later, he meets John Constantine, AKA Hellblazer, the character Keanu Reeves played in the movie “Constantine.” Dream searches for his “tools” and, in places, must duel mortals to regain what is rightfully his. I have to say that the sequence where the mortal—Doctor Destiny, enemy of the Justice League—uses the Dreamstone for his own sadistic pleasure is disturbing. Be warned: this is marketed as being for mature audiences and I would concur.

In early issues, Dream has his revenge against the people who either imprisoned him or had his tokens. In the battle with Doctor Destiny, Dream nearly perishes. His actions in the aftermath, given all that we have seen up until then, are interesting and lead directly into the last issue of this volume. Here, Dream talks with his big sister, Death, and accompanies her as she does her job. This issue is a sort of epilogue to this first sequence, and it’s where the bulk of the entire series seems to be headed.

I had no preconceived ideas about Neil Gaiman’s Sandman and I’m glad. I thoroughly enjoyed it. A friend of mine who has read the latter section of the series tells me it only gets better. As a writer myself, I understand how ideas form and how they can be shaped into stories. The groundwork Gaiman laid in this first volume of Sandman is something deep and epic. This is a journey and a story I fully expect to love.

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